


Job Description

by JazzRaft



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-07
Updated: 2017-05-07
Packaged: 2018-10-29 06:17:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10848180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JazzRaft/pseuds/JazzRaft
Summary: Noctis is the last Cetra, accompanied by a newly awakened Weapon named Gladio. At this point, Nyx just rolls with it.





	Job Description

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CkyKing](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CkyKing/gifts).



> Originally posted on tumblr for [ckyking.](http://ckyking.tumblr.com/)

“…Yyyeah, no. You’re gonna have to run this by me again. I don’t get.”

Noctis pinched the bridge of his nose, and the hulking giant beside him that Nyx was only now learning _wasn’t_ human shook his head in annoyance. Nyx was less surprised about Noctis being the last Cetra than he was Gladiolus being this… Weapon? Whatever the fuck that was?

While Cetra status was a big deal, there had always been something mystical about Noctis that made the reveal a little less shocking. Ever since the first day he’d fallen into his refuge, nearly crushing sylleblossoms and getting equally crushed in the side with a dirty, booted foot for his “horrible aim,” Nyx knew that there was something special about him.

There was a quiet magic to the boy; something primordial filtering through his eyes, like dust mites between the banners of sunlight floating through the broken church ceiling. Nyx felt uncommonly at ease around him. Despite his biting wit and rebellion sparking at his fingertips, Nyx felt so calm every time he stepped into his orbit. The phantoms in his brain quieted their roars to whispers, low enough that he could just hear Noctis’s voice when they talked, and not a million others.

He’d felt safe with Noctis, comforted by Noctis, from the first moment he opened his eyes to him. From the first kick to his ribs, accusing him of nearly killing the only pretty thing left in Midgar. And from the first line that had spilled past Nyx’s lips: “Oh? You meant the flowers? I dunno, there’s at least one more pretty thing in Midgar.”

Noctis being more than met the eye, Nyx could get behind. Gladiolus, he didn’t get. Because every time Noctis explained the planet’s “Weapons” to him, Nyx just couldn’t equate these massive, almost celestial-sounding creatures to the fairly simple man looming at Noct’s shoulder. Gladio _was_ built like a weapon, just not the kind Noctis was describing. If anything, Nyx would have figured him as SOLDIER. But his eyes gave him away. A sharp light-brown that humanized him from the bioluminescent proof that marked Nyx.

Noctis explained – _again_ – the history of the Cetra and the Weapons. How the Weapons had been resting away across the planet until the day came where they had to defend it. And that Gladio appearing now was a sign of foreboding, a sign that they were all in danger, that he was there to defend the planet from a great evil.

Gladiolus didn’t look very concerned for a Weapon of planetary significance though. Nyx didn’t know if that was because there was no merit to Noctis’s claim, or if that was just the way Gladiolus was. He had the bearing of a man that could watch an oncoming apocalypse as if it were as inconvenient to him as a seasonal sneeze.

Noctis was getting exasperated the longer he had to explain – and if Nyx was being honest, he was just asking because the boy was so damn cute when he got flustered and had to start over again. Nyx spared him having to go over it again before he could start hyperventilating for air.

“Alright so, the world’s coming to an end,” he yawned, pushing himself off the rickety church bench he’d been reclining on. “What else is new? The way they brief us at SOLDIER, the world’s ending every damn day.”

Noctis’s jaw tensed, biting down a few choice words about SOLDIER. Instead, he swallowed his revulsion and gave Nyx an imploring look. Eyes dipped low and wide and so gently blue that it felt like Nyx was being caressed by the very sky itself.

“Nyx, I…” he pursed his lips, hands coming together to wind, one over the other. “Okay, no, nevermind. It’s not your problem, I get it.”

That forced Nyx to pause, something in his chest squeezing at the sullen words. He faced Noctis, turning his head on its side as he scrutinized him. He was receding into himself, something Nyx noticed he did when there was something he didn’t want to talk about. Usually, it was things about himself. Questions Nyx prodded for his past, how he came to live here, what exactly he was all about. This wasn’t about Noctis though. He didn’t want to talk about _Nyx._ Almost as if he were afraid to.

He didn’t like that.

Nyx glanced back at Gladiolus. The man – Weapon – was quiet since this revelation of his identity. Nyx had known him for a day or two before then and, while stern, he was a shit-talker – and shit-talked _a lot_. He was constantly ribbing Noctis, as if they were long-lost brothers with no time gone between them. He’d even tripped Nyx up once or twice – although Nyx would never _ever_ let him know that he did, or that it bothered him because “screw you, my eyes are a highly-advanced, mako-infused, scientific marvel; they do not _sparkle_!”

But today, Gladio was quiet. The hard lines of his expression were grave to complement Noct’s nerves. And the longer Nyx glanced between the conflicting faces, the more convinced he was that something could be wrong.

“Okay,” Nyx said, resting a hand on Noctis’s shoulder. “Say that the planet’s in danger. What do you think the three of us can do about it?”

Noctis looked up at him, eyes filling with hope. Nyx swallowed a hard, knotted lump in his throat. The Cetra considered his face, driving Nyx insane with how bright those ancient eyes were. Then he looked to Gladio, and the Weapon gave him a gruff nod. As if they shared some telepathic link that Nyx was not yet privy to.

“I think I know where to start,” Noctis said.

His smile was soft and adoring as he looked up at Nyx. So engrossed was he with it that he didn’t notice the wickedness to Gladio’s smirk, just before Noctis said, “We’ll need to break into Shinra.”

Nyx’s eyes narrowed at that soft, serene, sinister and sinful smile. Living down in the dangers of the slums had made Noctis crafty. He knew how to twist that pretty face of his to get into and out of trouble like an assassin’s dagger through noble ribs. And Nyx was bleeding out fast.

He shook his head and sighed. Gladiolus gave him a consoling pat on the back.

“It’s for the greater good, pal.”

Nyx hated him just that little bit more.

“I’m so fired.”


End file.
